Echo
by Dayisntnight
Summary: 24/7. 「He plays around with characters, words. Finds bliss in Tsukumoya Shinichi.」
**In which I write about Tsukumoya Shinichi, a character from the novels that doesn't ever get mentioned in the anime. please enjoy! it is found on archive, but i blend two chapters. So these are the first two chapters, the next will come out when I write out two more on archive.**

* * *

The eldest of the household, a girl with shoulder length brown and black eyes was born deaf.

The youngest, a boy with equally brown hair and black eyes was born with high intelligence, nonetheless was silent in everyday life beside his big sister.

* * *

A name given has many meanings, or so, the boy is told when his mother pets him on the head on evening, head cocked to one side and lips pursed.

why did you name me this he asks, voice high and full of curiosity when he shuffles away from the hand touching his hair, reaching up to fix the ruffled locks. His mother smiles all too wide, laughing so sweetly but he's not laughing, instead frowns and gives a huff of annoyed air.

It's not like he hates his name, just finds it a tad bit boring. In school, his name is a bit common. There are two other kids with the same name, and despite the fact he's already in a class higher than the one he should be in; he's still called "the dumb ren" because he's young.

His mother assures him his name is fine.

His father tells him, with a nod, that his name is something he should be proud of.

His sister holds up her hands, signs _be who you want_ with a smile on her face and resumes reading atop the couch where sun hits her and Ren makes a face.

He decides, then, that maybe he really does hate his name.

In school, the next day, he scribbles hard against the notes blurring on paper. It's smudged and around his right pinkie to wrist it's stained with lead.

He plays around with characters, words.

Finds bliss in _**Tsukumoya Shinichi**_.

* * *

Ren, _no_ , Tsukumoya, enjoys books.

When he gets his first one, it's old and edges of the pages are crinkled and on several pages there are coffee stains. An occasional highlight of words, quotes circled and words scribbled on the edge of pages. There's a picture drawn in of the main character, a lazy doodle but it's done well and Tsukumoya finds himself cherishing the photo. The book is about a girl whose parents died in a car crash, that perhaps was plotted and it ends vague that leaves him chewing his bottom lip and wondering where and what has happened to the girl, Aoki, whose suddenly left only sleeping at the end. Tsukumoya researches. The author hasn't written anything else for the book, and has several other novels that are suppose to be better.

He's six when he gets his first book. And really, he doesn't think he can get rid of it. Now he's a year older, legs crossed and in the air as he lays belly flat against the bed. He really enjoys the book, and flips through each page slowly. He can read fast, the first time he's read it he skimmed through. Tested waters, and then reread it. Every time he does, he spots something new- or maybe, it's not new but feels new because he tries to forget.

It's not the same bliss as reading a book for the first time, he knows what's going to happen and still enjoys it. Aoki's real name was Hana, but she hates it just like he hates his own name, and she lives in a home with people that dumb her down and she's smart and beautiful, and one day when Tsukumoya finishes reading the book, he thinks that maybe he was a Aoki in real life. He cherishes her character, and really, hates how there is no way to know if she ever wakes up from an eternal slumber.

Tsukumoya thinks to write his own book, and rolls on his back. The book is pressed to his chest and he chews his bottom lip, rips the flesh that chapped and already peeling, wincing when he seems to have ripped actual flesh. He swallows, drags his tongue against his cut and sucks on it while he thinks more. He could write a book, and even though he's seven, Tsukumoya believes his book could be great.

When he goes to the living room, his sister is on the couch and she raises her hands, signs a hey! in his direction with a smile and Tsukumoya waves a hand back. There's stacks of paper by the printer, the computer shared. He has to ask permission, and after the okay he hops onto the tall, large office chair and finds himself popping each bone within his fingers. The popping sound makes his father scowl and his mother scolds him saying something he doesn't bother to care to think of.

The computer loads slowly, whirring to life loudly. He has an hour on the computer, and after the computer finally shows the home screen, he pops each digit again, this time adds his wrists and finds the tension within them gone and he shakes his hands and hurries to start up word pad.

The first thing he writes about takes three weeks, it's a story about a little boy who gets taken away by a secret agency that lets smart kids live in a place where they aren't made fun of for being too smart, or lazy or dumb, the boy is alone and has no friends and he's still a bit of an outcast, but that's how story goes- or he thinks.

Tsukumoya asks to print it out, pride swelling from his story but then his father has to read it and his sister wants too as well, his mother doesn't seem to mind but when his father finishes the story, he gets a lecture about writing things that make it seem he's being abused when Tsukumoya doens't understand how his father came to that conclusion, and has to delete the story. All hard work gone.

 _I liked it_. His sister assures him, _will the boy ever see his family again?_

Tsukumoya wants to say yes. Really, it was to go into the next book and the boy was going to see his family and show how he's a good hard worker and how smart he is and that his family should be proud. "No." He finally says, more from anger than actually thinking of his storyline. "His parents never see him again."

His sister give him a sad smile, hugs him and tells him with a soft flick to the nose that's a sad ending, maybe the boy will miss them.

Tsukumoya doesn't bother to respond, already feeling heat creep onto his cheeks and tears burn his eyes. The next day, his sister holds out a notebook, it's just a composition book, small and hard to write it when he wants to get the edges and his hand aches writing the first paragraph and it's hard to read period- but in it, he rewrites the story as best as he can, this time, the little boy has a best friend in the story.


End file.
